Magic Isn't Just For Defense and Discovery
by Fawkes's Tears
Summary: When Harry wakes up to the sound of Ginny's guitar, he knows that this is true love. ONESHOT. In response to a challenge by GoodVibes.


_a/n__ this is a challenge from __GoodVibes__, who asked me to make__ a __fic__ where __Ginny attracts Harry with the instrument she plays. _

Harry woke up, hearing music from outside. He rubbed his eyes, put on his glasses, and looked out the open window.

It was a beautiful scene. Birds were singing along with the gentle notes, flying through the sky and perched on trees; the sun was peeking over the horizon, with front row tickets to the concert. The sky was transforming from black to blue, currently a warm gray color. A wave of red hair was covering her back and shoulders, her fingers traveling up and down the frets as well as plucking and strumming the strings. It was positively alluring. The music and the artist. He fell in love with the sound of her guitar, as well as her.

Getting dressed and careful not to wake Ron, Harry snuck out to the front yard and sat down across from her. Her eyes were closed, her hair draping over part of her face as she moved her head and neck, entranced by the music. Her fingers moved carefully but quickly, and he was amazed at how well she played without even looking. Now closer to the music, he too closed his eyes, letting each note soak into his skin, into his soul. He found nothing more attractive than the song. It was a hypnotizing tune, making him fall in love with the one behind the strings. It was one he had never heard before, but felt oh so comfortable listening to, like it was a reminder of a childhood experience that was long since forgotten by all but his very subconscious. It was one he wanted to listen to forever; it was one he never wanted the end of.

With his eyes closed everything seemed to become even more sensuous. Each note bore into his brain and told him to enjoy. Each bird had a different song, but each one seemed to just add to a harmony of sounds he would never forget. But with his eyes closed, the prospect of the song ending became more logical. When the song ended, the guitar could be set aside, and instead, she could play him. He so deeply wanted her to kiss him, hold him, love him like he loved her. That guitar: it was an aphrodisiac to him.

And bending the final note to add just the right effect, the song ended. Harry opened his eyes, and at the same time, she opened hers. She pushed her hair behind her ear with two fingers, staring at him. She did not seem surprised by his appearance, rather, she seemed to have sense his presence. Her big, beautiful brown eyes stared at him, and his brilliant green eyes stared back. He could not think of a better moment than the one he was in right then.

"I didn't know you could play guitar."

"There're probably a lot of things you didn't know about me."

"There probably are." He said. "You play very well."

"I heard a classical guitarist on the radio one day and knew that I had to do that someday." She said. "But I got into more contemporary songs. Still the slower ones, but contemporary was better than classical." She grimaced.

Harry nodded. "Your hands are very soft for a guitarist."

A smile cracked across her face. "Magic isn't just for defense and discovery."

Harry nodded once more. She looked at him. They were both sitting on the ground, Ginny sitting up against a tree, Harry sitting a few feet away from her. She laughed. "Though we might need magic to defend ourselves once my brothers make the discovery we're out here together."

He chuckled, nodding. "I don't think they're quite over us breaking up."

"You mean you ditching me."

"Yeah." He croaked, his throat suddenly losing all hydration. "Sorry about that."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"What are you doing out here so early?" Harry asked, changing the subject quite suddenly.

"Any time later and everyone is bothering me. I'm out here almost every morning. Just to think."

"Are you always playing guitar?"

"Most of the time. Sometimes I just sit." She closed her eyes.

"I'll leave you alone." Harry said. Ginny made no move to stop him as he stood and walked away. She formed her fingers into a D chord and finger-picked a hypnotizing song. Harry hid behind the shed and watched her play, listened to every note that left her guitar. Soon, she started to softly sing along.

Harry woke up early the next day and rested a rose against the tree which she sat against the day before. He sneaked back up to Ron's room and watched her walk towards the tree. She saw the rose, chuckled, and stuck it behind her ear. He continued to watch as she played, finally sitting against the wall under the window and closing his eyes. She was so beautiful. He would do anything to hold her again.

The next day, he rested two roses against the tree. The next day, three.

When four roses appeared against the tree, Ginny picked them up and twirled them around in her fingers. Harry watched from the window as she sighed and walked away. He sat on the bed, closed his eyes, and soon heard a soft knock on the door.

Ginny was standing there when he opened the door. "What's wrong, Ginny?"

She held out all ten roses that Harry had given her the last four days. "Take them back." She said quietly. Harry was staring at her face, barely aware of the roses being shoved into his chest. He had not been so close to her in almost a year; he had almost forgotten how beautiful she was. Her hair looked even brighter closer up, even silkier, and he wanted nothing more than to take her head in his hands and run his fingers through her hair, kiss every inch of her face, and stare into her eyes. The two brown eyes on her face were perhaps deeper than any ocean in the world. So much packed into inch-by-inch ovals. It made him want to stare into them for hours, just to find out how so much hid in her eyes.

"Harry, take the roses back." She said, this time a little firmer, her gorgeous, soft lips twitching. Harry reached out to caress her cheek, but she turned on heel, and he ended up running his calloused thumb over her hair. "I don't want them."

"What do you want?" Harry asked. "I'll give you anything."

"You can't give me anything, Harry, you know that." She snapped, and he heard a trace of tears in her magnificently pleasing voice.

"Magic isn't just for defense and discovery." He whispered. "What do you want, Ginny Weasley? If you could have anything right now, what would it be?"

She slowly turned around, and Harry saw her face was completely dry and just as pale as ever. It had not been tears he had heard in her voice. But he did not know what it could have been. Whatever it was, it did not matter to him at that moment. She was staring at him, her perfect eyes laced with pain. He had a feeling he knew what she would say, and knew why she had challenged his offer. Even magic couldn't get her what she wanted. But Harry wanted to give her whatever he could. He would do his best to make her happy. The eyes that had once been so happy were now so sad. The voice that had once been strong was now quavering. The heart that had once loved him was now broken.

If he hadn't loved Ginny before, he certainly did now. She was perfect; something in the guitar had proved that to him. Some magic that belonged to no wand was in those sounds. And the magic had cast a deep spell on him, one that would never break.

"What would it be for you?" She asked him, not blinking. He stared down at her, not blinking either.

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes, you, Ginevra Molly Weasley, who despises her first name so much that she actually grimaced in the middle of me telling her that I want her more than anything in the world." He smiled, and she blushed. "You, Ginny Weasley, whose guitar hypnotizes me. You, Ginny Weasley, whose eyes I can't help but look into. Whose hair I can't help but wonder what it would be like to touch. Whose lips I can't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss. You, Ginny Weasley, who I love."

Ginny stared at him. He stared back. And in a flash of red, Ginny was kissing him, and she was kissing her back.

"All those songs," Ginny began, breathing into his mouth and sending a pleasing chill down his spine. "they were for you."

"You wrote those yourself?" Harry gaped. Ginny nodded. "How?"

"A musician never reveals her secrets." She said. "Though I will tell you that magic is not just for defense and discovery."

_a/n__ well I did the best I could, so I hope you enjoyed it._


End file.
